


poem collection

by stressedout



Category: N/A - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 01:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11326224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stressedout/pseuds/stressedout





	1. poem i - october 30 2016 / damnation

honey-  
the name is on the tip of my tongue  
i want to tell you how merciless he is  
how he will destroy you from the inside out  
he will burn your heart and break your bones  
there is nothing that could stop the way  
he gradually steps into your life  
and wedges his way into your brain  
he will give you things, affection  
and records, and clothes and the fake  
mirage of love, but this is not love

sweetie-  
back away from him i want to tell you  
i want to beg you to step away from him  
put your hands up and protect your body  
he will rip your walls down and make you  
love him but he’ll never love you back  
this is more than an ex that im mad at  
he is the guy who ruined my life and made  
me feel so worthless of love anymore  
he will ruin everything you love about yourself  
and you’ll blame yourself for years  
because why did you ignore the warnings

dear-  
stop talking to him please, he is a monster  
take my word for it, this is not love, or affection  
this is not him wanting to hold your hand or  
show his love for you out in the world  
it isn’t what love is supposed to be  
hushed tones because your parents dont like him  
secret smiles because you can’t dare to show  
your infatuation of him no one can know  
your dirty little secret is talking to him  
god isn’t that a hint to you if you have to hide  
this guy from your life, doesn’t that mean  
there’s something wrong with him

love-  
please do yourself a favor and listen to my  
begging and asking and please please please  
rip away yourself from him and make it hurt  
if he hates you because of how you hurt him  
he won’t come back like an ever growing Hydra  
it will stop him from tainting your mind and heart  
and it will stop him from shattering your life into pieces  
and from grabbing into your rib cage and taking your heart  
take my advice i know it’s not the best and i know  
that i am not the best person and maybe you  
don’t believe me because how could someone  
so nice so lovely that you know destroy someone’s life

sweetheart-  
the answer is that he isn’t nice or lovely  
he is destructive and manipulative and he  
is merciless please burn your bridges with him  
and walk away give him back the stuff  
he gave you the clothes and records and the  
bull shit love give it back to him don’t keep it  
in your closet labeled in your mind as just a box  
that takes up closet space burn the box and  
all of the messages he wrote to you  
give him back everything and tell him no  
you won’t play his games you don’t even  
know that that’s what they were until he’s finished

honey-  
burn him before he has the chance to set fire to everything that you love in your life  
because i promise you that the day will come when he won’t make rain fall to extinguish the fire within you  
and you will burn yourself and have blackened hands and ash upon your lips and forever wondering what you did wrong  
and for years after it will be war inside of your head completely filled with contradictory statements  
and conflicting emotions of regret and anger and wanting to know what went wrong and unjustly blaming yourself  
and god i hope the day comes for you when you’ll be able to confess what he did to you in more than just ashamed whispers 

but honey-  
believe me that is not the life you want to live it is pure purgatory so please please please i am begging you  
protect yourself and break the ties you have with him before he breaks your bones because the pain now  
of not having him in your life giving you fake god damned love will be absolutely painless and nothing  
compared to the wounds youll have and feel when you realize that he is not a lover no

he is your damnation


	2. poem ii - january 13 2016 / my body is a graveyard

something under my skin is itching and ill scratch myself raw to get rid of the feeling  
it is like the pile of trash filling up and making my room smell as rotten as the insides of my heart  
yknow ive watched enough criminal shows to know what to do with a rotting body but i dont even know where to begin if that body is mine and im still living in it  
im living amongst long showers and piles of clothes littered on my floor  
i keep tripping over the same boots, too tired, too pathetic, too saddened to move them  
its starting to make the feeling itch even more i hate living in this filth but i dont have the time to clean it up  
i dont have the time to stick my fingers between my rib cage and extract the rotting organs  
i don’t have the heart too hah because i think that maybe a new body, maybe better than this junk yard, it wouldnt be the same  
it wouldn’t have my ansgt or my loud punching walls and stomping anger  
it wouldn’t have the bottle of air thats supposed to be filled with tears  
im not emotional because i refuse to cry  
crying means i am weak and i let them win crying means i did not have the strength to wipe the blood off and pick at the scab a week later with a nostalgic feel crying means i lost and i hate losing  
it wouldnt be me  
im trying to replace the malicious and pungent smell of insomnia filled nights with a side of nightmares that i see every night  
im trying so hard to replace them with homemade jewelry and flower wall papers and bright nail polish and dark lipstick and smiles and baked cookies but everything is tainted now  
its gilded; on the surface they shine like emeralds and rubies and amber but theres corruption and blackened souls and anger and clenched fists and bad habits just waiting to emerge  
fortunately everyone’s nose doesnt notice the smell of rotting flesh and sleep deprived eyes rolling out of the sockets  
they dont notice the half moons stamped purple under the empty sockets  
or the cracked lips, sewn together by deep rivers of blood  
they dont notice the patches of black hair littered upon the garbage dump that is my room, impulsively cut with immediate regret  
no one even notices the chipped and bitten nails, the only thing in the trash can  
no one notices because theyre all dealing with other shit, which is fine really  
im used to covering my scent of decomposing body amongst late nights listening to night driving music and playing scenarios in my head, hoping itll transfer my dreams (it never does)  
and im used to spraying perfume and putting lotion on my face and hands, both strong enough to mask the scent  
im used to peeling my skin back when night is not a time but a liminal place where everything is fuzzy and nothing is real  
peeling it back so gently and trying to grab onto a putrid organ, too afraid to touch it  
i have an itching feeling under my skin and my body is going to die before im ready to go


	3. poem iii - february 6 2017 / everything is holy

we try to be holy and sweet and glorious at the same time  
we kneel behind the bleachers like we do on sundays  
we kiss boys with our red stained lips, eyes closed and dreaming of galaxies  
we love in secret and confess sins together while grinning  
we smile shyly at the boys in front of our parents, but the boys know our dirty secret  
they are our dirty secret

we try to be celestial and ethereal, something from above  
we hold onto our hearts with all of our life and existence  
we grasp onto shirts and gasp into quiet rooms when no one is home  
we hate like we love, quietly and in secret, in hidden alleyways and libraries  
we make eye contact from opposite ends of the room and we both have a fiery look in our eyes  
this is our dirty secret

we try to be demigods and teenagers and alive  
we break our dreams and paint them over with whatever we have left  
we cover up the dark purple spots among our necks and collarbones but leave the ones under our eyes to be seen  
we keep loving one another behind doors and under covers, trying so hard not to scream out  
we force ourselves to stop touching one another so often, it is too risky, we could get caught so easily  
this is our dirty secret

we try to be ourselves and what our parents want us to be  
we steal love from strangers and liquor from the cabinet, it’s no big deal if we do it every weekend  
we hide away the cherry lipstick we use to mark the boys and girls and the clothes we wear to intrigue the strangers  
we run away from our problems with hazy summer nights filled with smoking and deliciously sinful kisses  
we stop making eye contact in the halls because we have memorized the eye colors of the boys; we know them from kneeling before them day after day, making them ask for God  
they are our dirty secret

we try to be holy and sweet and glorious  
we kneel under desks and behind doors and against walls  
we kiss boys with closed eyes and bruising lips  
we love privately, not by choice, but by force, by the need to survive  
we smile longingly with desire and want and lust all wrapped up in one  
they are our dirty secret and nothing is holy


	4. poem iv - march 13 2017

honey-  
don’t you realize that anyone who dares to cross you has a death wish?  
don’t you know your claws instill fear in the men who proudly wear the royal crest?  
don’t you understand that anyone who wants the blood of their enemy to stop running, will come to you?

dear-  
wield your teeth as if they are knives daring to rip the rotting flesh  
take the swords handed to you and throw them in the river; you’re too intelligent for dull rust  
use your strength and body to burn down your enemies, not an insignificant and unworthy match

love-  
let the blood drip down your face in place of dewy tears  
let the glory of your kills surround you and nourish you for days; only coming back when you’re famished  
let the fear and terror build in people; they will not tell your secrets in exchange of keeping their lives

honey-  
don’t you realize that the earth trembles when you walk, creating earthquakes and tsunamis, because even the planets are terrified?  
don’t you know that it’s fatal to kiss you on your dark red lips; sickly sweet honey isn’t alive in your mouth, but sweetly sick venom is  
don’t you understand that you are good enough for this world, murderous rage and all?

dear-  
wield your sharp smirk and lethal smile as if they are poison, just waiting to stop someone’s breath  
take the shield handed to you and laugh like a monster; as if you would need a shield, your skin is defense enough; it’s been keeping you alive for all these years,  
anyway use your small body to deceive those who are doubtful of your power and turn them inside out; reach in between their rib cages and take their heart, wait  
for them to see your true power

love-  
let your anger turn into rage and let it ignite the flames of fright within those who want to decapitate your head  
let the dark gray ashes fall around your own standing, burning body; if someone wants you to stop being a fire, they will sacrifice themselves  
let them attempt to kill you and your flame; they’d have to drag the ocean to try to put you out, but oh, darling, they’re so foolish

you and i both know that nothing can kill you  
simply because you won’t let it


End file.
